Behind Closed Doors

‘Between you and me, I never understood why he took the case on in the first place.’


‘Maybe he let his emotions get in the way,’ I suggest. ‘But the thing is, Adam, you must have known he was staying behind because didn’t you offer to take him to the airport this evening?’

‘When?’

‘Well, on Friday, I presume, when he told you he was staying behind.’

‘Sorry, Grace, I’m afraid I haven’t spoken to Jack since Friday morning before he left for court, although I did leave a message on his voicemail commiserating with him over losing. Are you saying that you haven’t heard from him since you left?’

‘Yes. I wasn’t too worried at first because he warned me he wouldn’t be answering his phone and, anyway, I was away on an excursion for the last couple of days. But I expected him to have at least left a message on my phone here at the hotel to tell me that everything was on schedule for tonight. He may already have left for the airport—you know what traffic is like in rush hour—but I keep getting through to his voicemail. I know he won’t answer the phone if he’s driving but it’s really frustrating.’

‘Maybe he’s forgotten to switch it back on again if it’s been off since Friday.’

‘Maybe. Listen, Adam, I won’t take up any more of your time, I’m sure everything’s fine.’

‘Do you want me to phone around a few people and see if they’ve spoken to him at all over the weekend? Would that put your mind at rest?’

Relief floods my voice. ‘Yes, it would, definitely. You could try Esther—when she took me to the airport she said she’d invite Jack around sometime over the weekend.’

‘Will do.’

‘Thanks, Adam. How are Diane and the children, by the way?’

‘They’re all fine. Let me make those calls and I’ll get back to you. Can you give me your number there?’

I read it out to him from the hotel notepad, which is lying on the bedside table, and sit down on the bed to wait. I try to read, but I find it difficult to concentrate. Half an hour or so later, Adam calls back to tell me that he hasn’t found anybody who actually spoke to Jack over the weekend although several people saw him in the office before he left for court.

‘I’ve also tried him several times myself, but I got his voicemail each time, as did Esther when she tried to get hold of him. But that doesn’t mean anything—as I said, maybe he’s just forgotten to switch it back on again.’

‘I don’t think he would have, especially as he must know that I’ll be wanting to speak to him. And there’s something else I thought of—why did he tell me that you’d offered to take him to the airport when you didn’t?’

‘Maybe he intended to ask me to then changed his mind. Look, don’t worry, I’m sure everything is all right. I’m sure he’ll be on that flight tonight.’

‘Do you think that if I phone British Airways in a couple of hours they’ll tell me whether or not he’s checked in?’

‘No, they won’t, not unless it’s an emergency. Passenger confidentiality and all that.’

‘Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning,’ I sigh.

‘Well, when you see him, make sure you tell him off for worrying you. And tell him to send me a text to let me know he’s arrived.’

‘Then could you give me your mobile number?’ He gives it to me and I jot it down. ‘Thanks, Adam.’

Once again I have trouble sleeping. Early next morning, prettily dressed and beautifully made-up, I go down to the lobby. Mr Ho is once again at the reception desk. He guesses that I’ve come down to wait for Jack and tells me that I might have a long wait, as there are the queues at Passport Control to contend with plus the taxi ride from the airport. He suggests that I have breakfast, but I tell him that I prefer to wait for Jack, that he’ll no doubt be hungry when he arrives.

I find a seat not too far away from the main door and settle down to wait. As time goes on, I look at my watch anxiously and, when it is evident that something is wrong, I go over to Mr Ho and ask him if he can find out if the London flight arrived on time. He checks on his computer and, when he tells me that the flight was in fact delayed and is due to land at any moment, I can’t believe my luck, because I won’t have to pretend panic for another couple of hours. Mr Ho smiles at the look of relief on my face and I admit that I was beginning to worry at Jack’s non-appearance. I go back to waiting and Mr Ho brings me over a pot of tea to help pass the time.

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